


Free Programme

by paperscribe



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Ice Skating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperscribe/pseuds/paperscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one would ever suspect Robbie Lewis of following figure skating.  Written for lewis_challenge's Valentine's Weekend Love Spectacular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Programme

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ComplicatedLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComplicatedLight/gifts).



_1980_

"Love, Robin Cousins is going to skate next!" Robbie called.

Val hurried in from the other room. "I think he's got a good chance, don't you?"

"Aye, if he skates the same way he did in the short programme," Robbie said. He'd not been one to watch figure skating in his younger years, but Val loved it, and now that he'd begun paying attention to it, Robbie found it interesting. He gestured to Cousins' skating outfit, which was dark with glittery designs down the front and along the arm. "Used to have kit like that. Wore it to church on Sundays."

Val laughed and nestled against him, sipping her cocoa. "It'd be brilliant for Britain to have another men's Olympic skating champion. I was surprised John Curry turned professional so quickly."

"Four years is a long time," Robbie said. "And what if, two years on, you hurt yourself and can't fly through the air anymore? Then you've got no Olympics and no money."

Val kissed him. "Ever practical, I see."

Cousins took his position on the ice, hand on his opposite shoulder, bowing his head. Robbie wondered how anyone could concentrate in a room full of people shouting encouragement at him, knowing there were judges there to deduct points for his every mistake. He couldn't imagine doing it.

The music began, and it was very dramatic. Cousins moved well to the music…Robbie thought Cousins was probably another one of those skating blokes who trained in dance. He had such graceful hands and arms, always placed, never careless. He was tall and elegant, and when he jumped, he got so high in the air…well, it was all rather nice, wasn't it?

"Should I be jealous?" Val asked in amusement.

Robbie answered too quickly. "Course not. Only…he's good, isn't he?"

Val nodded. "He is."

After landing his first few jumps cleanly, Cousins missed a triple loop, causing Robbie to hiss through his teeth and Val to wince.

"At least he didn't fall," Val said, tentatively looking for a silver lining.

"I suppose now we have to hope everyone else does," Robbie said.

The music suddenly took a disco turn, and Robbie grimaced even as he could hear the Americans attending the competition cheer and start clapping in time to the music. "That's a bit cheap, isn't it?"

"Who cares, if it works?" Val said.

Cousins stopped mid-ice and did a few cheeky dance moves before carrying on with the programme, and Robbie wondered idly what it would be like to watch Cousins at a disco. Probably be a brilliant dancer. Then the music slowed, and Cousins was all grace and elegance again. Oddly, Robbie found himself wondering what it would be like to be a pairs skater, or an ice dancer. What would it be like to have a partner who could glide you round the ice and make it look beautiful? What would it be like to always have that strength and that grace right beside you, with you always? It made Robbie wish he were better at skating.

To hide his train of thought, Robbie said quickly, "Flying sit spin, that. See? I'm learning."

Val looked at him thoughtfully. "You do fancy him a bit, don't you?"

Robbie coloured. How did a man have this conversation with his wife, exactly? "Erm…"

"Don't worry, I'm not offended," Val said. "Long as you don't run away with him in the dead of night."

"Didn't marry him, did I?" Robbie said fondly. "I married you."

Val laughed warmly, setting aside her cocoa. "And I'll always be grateful."

Cousins did win the gold that night, but Val and Robbie's attention wasn't exactly on the telly when it happened.

***

_1984_

Four years later, there were no British medalists in men's or women's figure skating, and Robbie knew the Soviets would take the pairs gold, as they usually did. But Britain still had a stake in the ice dancing competition, in the persons of Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean. Robbie had met Dean once, back when Dean had been a constable in Nottinghamshire, training as an ice dancer during his off-hours--a fact that never failed to delight Val.

Robbie was in the process of rocking Lyn to sleep when Torvill and Dean's "Bolero" routine came on. He and Val both watched, entranced.

"My God," Val said at the end. "If that wasn't about sex, I don't know what was."

Robbie refrained from commenting that this was not the first time he'd connected skating and sex in his mind. "You and I could learn to do that."

"Only if you're going to be Torvill. I know Dean was the policeman, but I'm not letting you fling me about like that," Val joked.

"Okay," Robbie said. "Though you might have to do a bit of weightlifting."

"Robbie, I care for a baby all day. I have muscles you've never imagined," Val retorted.

It wasn't the lifting in ice dancing that was exciting anyway, Robbie thought. It was the close continued contact…hands on waists, one partner guiding the other, pulling, letting go, drawing back. It was a dance between distance and nearness…and yes, Robbie would like to try it someday.

Not that he'd ever mention that, even to Val.

***

_2014_

Robbie wasn't entirely sure why Hathaway had wanted to meet him at the Oxford Ice Rink, but he'd gone anyway. Hathaway's car was already there, so maybe he was inside; Robbie knew there was a relatively new cafe. Maybe Hathaway liked the coffee here.

Robbie went to the cafe first, but Hathaway was nowhere to be seen, until Robbie looked out of the window. There, in the midst of general skate, was Hathaway, moving easily and gracefully round the ice as though he'd been doing it his whole life.

For a moment, Robbie stood there, dumbfounded. James could skate? And…not only could he skate, he could…really bloody skate, long limbs moving with perfect ease and grace. As if to punctuate Robbie's epiphany, James moved into the centre of the rink, where the more experienced skaters were, and executed a leap into an elegant spin.

_Flying sit spin, that,_ helpfully provided the small part of Robbie's brain that was still working.

There was only one chance that this wouldn't turn into something horrifyingly embarrassing for Robbie, and that would be if he sneaked (snuck?) away right now. He could do it now, before anyone saw him--just leave the way he'd come, get back in the car, drive away, make some excuse about being stuck in traffic or not being able to start the car...and this entire brilliant plan was impossible now because Hathaway had seen him and was waving. Bloody hell.

Robbie made his way down to the rink, and Hathaway met him by the rink wall.

"Don't tell me," Robbie said. "You skate a bit."

Hathaway gave him a bright smile. "Yeah!"

Robbie nodded. "Why are we here?"

"Thought you might like to," Hathaway said. "You've mentioned skating from time to time."

"I've mentioned watching skating," Robbie said.

"No, you've mentioned taking the kids skating when they were young at least once, when we were investigating the murder of that hockey coach."

Leave it to Hathaway to remember bloody everything. "Haven't done it in a while."

Hathaway gave him a playful look. "Will you need to rent a penguin, sir?"

A few kids on the ice had penguins--plastic toys with a wide base and handles to help uncertain skaters balance.

"No, I won't need a penguin," Robbie grumbled. "Too short for me anyway, aren't they?"

"I can help you," Hathaway said. "I've been doing this a while."

"Yeah, I could tell by your flying sit spin," Robbie said.

Hathaway looked delighted. "You do watch skating."

"Have done for ages," Robbie said. "You're serious about this, aren't you? Getting me out there?"

"It'll be fun," Hathaway said.

Robbie tried not to think about Hathaway or Robin Cousins. "I'll see to my skates."

He rented the skates, laced them, and then tentatively took to the ice, keeping one hand on the wall at the side of the rink. If he'd gone with his grandkids, he wouldn't have worried, but falling or looking foolish in front of Hathaway seemed more embarrassing somehow.

Hathaway glided over to him, looking every inch the figure skater. "All right?"

"Brilliant," Robbie said, trying to disguise his anxiety as grumpiness.

"Why don't I try skating with you for a bit, until you feel comfortable?" Hathaway suggested. "I'm used to skating with someone else…had a few lessons."

Robbie must've imagined that last bit. There was no other explanation for it. Robbie must've been fantasizing. He must've been. And then it was too late even to try to say anything, because Hathaway's arm was around his waist, and his other hand was on Robbie's arm, and all Robbie could think of was Val saying, _"If that wasn't about sex, I don't know what was."_ It wasn't sex, of course, but it was closer than Robbie had been in quite a while, and no one knew about this fantasy of his, no one knew, and yet Hathaway was somehow going to fulfill it anyway. Robbie shivered and closed his eyes.

Hathaway mistook the shiver for fear, and whispered in Robbie's ear, "It's all right. I promise I won't let you fall." And with that promise, with the nearness, with everything, a clear thought struck Robbie--that this, too, was what he had wanted, this ability to move with a partner on the ice, to depend on his strength and care.

"I trust you," Robbie said, and it was more of an admission than Hathaway would ever know.

"Start with your right foot," Hathaway said, "and I'll do the same."

Robbie, in spite of his fears, wasn't a bad skater to start, and he and Hathaway were soon moving easily across the ice. And it was easy; they seemed instinctively to have a feeling for each other's rhythms. Robbie didn't know how much of that was Hathaway's training and how much of it was the sense they'd developed of each other over the years, but…it was good. Better than good. Lovely.

A small child went careening into the wall in front of them, sprawling on the ice, and just as Robbie thought he wouldn't possibly have time to stop, Hathaway executed a deft manoeuvre, spinning Robbie round so he was now moving in Hathaway's direction. They collided and stopped each other, Robbie's hands against Hathaway's chest, Hathaway's arms around Robbie.

"Are you all right?" Hathaway asked.

Robbie nodded, though he could feel himself shivering a bit.

"You must be freezing," Hathaway said. He stepped back. "We can go to the cafe…"

"No!"

Hathaway looked surprised by the rapidity and the vehemence of Robbie's answer. Robbie didn't blame him; he was a bit surprised himself. He knew Hathaway was waiting for an explanation of some kind, but if there was one thing Robbie didn't feel able to give, it was an explanation. Not about this.

"You did very well," Hathaway said, clearly looking for some solid conversational ground to retreat to.

"I had help," Robbie said, risking a glance at Hathaway.

"Would you like to try again?" Hathaway asked, his voice very gentle.

Robbie let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "If you would."

"There's nothing I'd like more."

Robbie's breath caught, and he looked quickly at Hathaway to see if he was joking…but he wasn't. His expression was open and warm. He _knew_. And he hadn't bolted.

"Come on then," Robbie said, feeling slightly breathless. "You be Dean, I'll be Torvill."

He could hear Hathaway's low chuckle as his arm circled Robbie's waist again. This time, Robbie allowed himself to enjoy the sensation, to think, _So this is what it's like._

"Ready?" Hathaway's voice asked in his ear.

Robbie nodded. "Yeah."

And they moved forward together, partners in every sense that mattered.


End file.
